


Survivor

by camnoelgallavich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abusive Terry Milkovich, Aftermath of Violence, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Dorks in Love, Husbands, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Post-Episode: s10e12 "Gallavich!", Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Terry dies, sorry that's a spoiler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camnoelgallavich/pseuds/camnoelgallavich
Summary: “It is heavy shit man.” He relented. “Which is why I don’t talk about it.” He closed his eyes as he felt Ian’s arms wrap around him in the only comforting embrace Mickey has ever known.Ian was the only person who would’ve recognized this change in Mickey, and since he knew Mickey better than Mickey knew himself, Ian was right to address it in this way. Mickey would’ve gone about his life as much as he could just trying to manage it on his own, Ian was right. He swallowed thickly and then continued. “But, we’ll figure something out.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	Survivor

After Mickey permanently moved into the Gallagher house, Saturdays had become family day. It hadn’t been intentional, but Ian and Mickey would eat breakfast together every Saturday - since it was their only day off together - and slowly everyone in the family started to join them. It had become their first tradition and eventually the first person awake in the morning would head down to the kitchen and cook enough for all seven of them, until the next person woke up and started to help out and so on and so forth. They were missing some siblings now that Fiona and Lip had their own families, but it felt very much like it used to, with everyone helping cook and set the table. They’d started doing the same with dinner on Saturday nights as well, but for that Ian or Mickey took it upon themselves to split the cooking responsibilities, since they knew Debbie and Carl would gripe about it and they didn't want to put that much pressure on little Liam. Kev and Vee would come over with Amy and Gemma whenever they were free too, bringing booze or a side dish. 

This Saturday was no different. Ian was standing at the stove, picking up the fry pan and tilting it over the plate to his left to pour out his last batch of scrambled eggs just as Mickey squeezed behind him and reached for a plastic water bottle to take on his run. 

“Aye, careful.” Ian chastised when Mickey’s hand reached too close to the hot pan. 

“Don’t careful me, fuckin’ mother hen.” Mickey teased and bumped Ian’s arm before he moved away, stealing a warm piece of toast off of the pile Ian had made and spreading some butter on it. “I know you’re not gonna burn me.” He shrugged as he took a big bite of his toast and munched on it, watching Ian’s side profile. His husband looked so damn beautiful in the morning, it was unfair. Ian’s soft hair was sticking up all over the place, making him look adorable, and there was a softness to his features, with a little pink glow on his cheeks. He wore his favorite sweatpants that hung low on his hips, paired with one of Mickey’s navy blue tank tops that stopped a little short against his waist, revealing the thinnest sliver of skin. 

Mickey opened the water bottle in his hand and drank half of it without even realizing it. “I’m going on a run, you gonna be here when I get back?” He asked, figuring Ian might want to head out for a bit. 

Ian turned off the stove and finally turned his attention to his man, leaning against the counter and picking up his coffee mug, taking a sip of it as he indulged himself checking out Mickey’s tight gray dri-fit t-shirt and maroon shorts. “Yeah I’ll be here.” He nodded as he shamelessly ogled his husband. “It’s my turn to cook dinner and the living room is a mess so I’ll probably spend the day straightening that up.” He said as he set his mug down and pushed off of the counter to make his way over to Mickey, holding his waist in both hands and turning Mickey to face him. “You better come home soon though, I might be able to squeeze a round into my busy schedule.” He teased, swooping down to peck Mickey’s lips. 

Mickey chuckled softly against his lips and pushed Ian away from him with a hand pressing into his rock hard abs. “Fuck off, you’re not getting anything after that.” He bit into the toast again as he watched Ian laugh and pick up his water bottle to refill it. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” He joked back before placing the bottle down on the counter next to Mickey and arching his neck to look at Mickey’s ass in those tight short shorts. “You know… these morning runs are really doing wonders for you…” He mumbled, making bedroom eyes at Mickey’s ass until he felt Mickey’s little hand pulling his chin up. 

“My eyes are up here, asshole.” Mickey said through a laugh, shaking his head at Ian and then stuffing the rest of the toast in his mouth as he held his gaze. God, Mickey never thought they’d get to this point of their lives. He’d always been hopeful though, since that summer when they fell in love. From the day he realized that he was in love with Ian, he had hoped that he could fully have Ian be his in every way imaginable and be truly happy with him. For years, Mickey waited and waited but that day never came. It took the impossible to bring them back together in prison and even then they’d barely made it to their wedding day intact. But here they were, months later, happily joking around with each other like they do every day, feeling secure in their relationship as husbands with the love that they have for each other. 

“Mhm…” Ian hummed dreamily and smiled before adding, “and they’re pretty too.” Ian's pink cheeks turned a shade darker as he puckered his lips. His chin was in Mickey’s hand and there was no way Ian was going to be the one to step away first. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and licked the butter off of his fingers obnoxiously before smirking at Ian and pressing their lips together. To be honest, Mickey really should’ve seen it coming that Ian would get carried away. He felt the Earth drop away beneath his feet as Ian picked him up and set him on the countertop, spreading Mickey’s legs and standing between them as he deepened the kiss. Mickey’s hands gravitated to their usual places on Ian, one hand on the side of his neck and the other on the side of his body, pulling him closer. Ian always felt too far away. The only place he needed to be was pressed right up against Mickey. Mickey ensured this right now by sliding that hand around to the small of Ian’s back, slipping under his tank top and touching his hot skin. 

Ian had no problem molding his body against Mickey’s, cradling the back of his head with one large hand and bringing the other to rest on the side of Mickey’s thick, juicy thigh. He gave it a little squeeze before pulling Mickey’s leg up and hooking it over his hip. 

Mickey tilted back a little to keep his leg up where Ian placed it and he used it to pull Ian impossibly closer. He found himself moaning into Ian’s mouth as his husband grinded against his crotch. He broke the kiss to groan at him, smacking at Ian’s chest but not pulling away from where their bodies were connected. “You’re trying to stop me from going on this run, aren’t you?” He accused Ian, getting dangerously close to popping a boner right here on the kitchen counter and if that happened his plans for an early morning run would go right out the window.

“Nooooo… M’not doing that at all…” Ian smiled as he leaned back in to kiss Mickey’s neck, inhaling his comforting scent and mumbling the words against Mickey’s skin. He knew exactly what he was doing to Mickey as he slid his lips down, pressing gentle kisses all over and then sucking right on the sweet spot that always made his husband moan. 

An unsuspecting Mickey was unable to stop the moan that fell past his lips, but he bit his lip to stop another from surfacing. “Aye, aye, c’mon.” He pushed at Ian’s chest lightly. He rolled his eyes when Ian barely budged and his eyes landed on one of Debbie’s magazines next to his hip on the counter. He picked it up and rolled it before swinging at Ian like a fly. “Off, get away.” He laughed evilly, smacking Ian’s bicep and shoulder with it from different angles. 

Ian laughed and took a step back from between Mickey’s legs to dodge the hits, before stealing the magazine out of Mickey’s hand. “I’m gonna remember that later.” He poked Mickey right in the chest with the other end of the magazine like a sabre. 

“Already said you’re not gettin’ any.” Mickey shrugged and jumped off the counter, working hard to keep a straight face when he heard Ian grumbling something under his breath, because he knew himself that that was a lie. “So you can ‘remember that’ all you want.” He flipped Ian off before scooping up his water bottle. Instead of going in the opposite direction, he took two steps closer to his grumpy, playfully pouting husband. “Suck it up, buttercup.” He teased before placing a balancing hand on Ian’s arms that were folded across his chest and leaning up on his toes to peck Ian’s lips. 

Pulling out of the kiss, Mickey saw Ian’s face light up and lips pulling up into a big smile. “All better?” Mickey laughed and walked backwards towards the living room. 

Ian nodded to answer Mickey’s question and kept up with their morning routine. “Yup. Have a good run.” In the past, Ian never would’ve imagined saying that to Mickey every morning, but they really have changed. 

Mickey felt dorky as he threw one last wave over his shoulder but he did it anyway, glancing back at Ian once more before heading out the front door. Stepping out onto the porch, he stretched his arms and legs properly, thinking back to his first few morning jogs when he hadn’t stretched and every muscle in his body ached. He chuckled to himself remembering how many blowjobs he’d gotten from Ian as a result of not being able to move a muscle. 

As Mickey made his way out onto the street, he thought back to January when this hobby started about 2 weeks after they got married. It had been a daunting task to him at one point of his life, but starting out with Ian, it wasn’t so bad. He remembered joking about the reason for his newfound hobby with the Gallaghers - saying it was purely to annoy Ian when he looked hotter than his husband - but he never told them the truth. Only Ian knew that the real reason he started waking up at the crack of dawn to run was because he was scared shitless of Terry. 

Terry Milkovich, the worthless piece of shit who Mickey only thought of as his sperm donor at this point, had crossed the line targeting their wedding and then shooting at them during their honeymoon. Mickey hadn’t expected the obscenities and the hate spewing from his father close to the wedding. Terry has known Mickey is gay for years and he’s known about Ian’s relationship with Mickey from the day he traumatized both of them and hurt Mickey beyond repair. Terry saw Mickey come out for Ian - to be able to love Ian freely, the way his boyfriend at the time needed him to. 

Hearing that Terry sabotaged their wedding venue over the fact that Mickey was marrying a guy was incredibly annoying to Mickey because they’ve already been over this. Mickey was a man who loved another man. There was nothing new that Terry discovered which triggered this rampage. Obviously, the fact that his dad was a homophobe was at the center of this new battle with him. It had nothing to do with Ian, Terry was just irrationally enraged over the idea of his son marrying a man. He was marrying his on and off again boyfriend in the hopes of keeping him by his side forever - till death to they part - but, Terry was creating dangerous situations which made death seem more like a reality and it was scaring Mickey. Mickey would much rather be excommunicated from the family and never see Terry again than to be attacked by him over and over. 

Mickey knew he would always protect Ian before himself, there was no question about it. The second he sensed they were in danger on their honeymoon, Mickey had rolled over and pushed Ian to the floor, laying over him and shielding Ian from flying bullets with his own body. Realizing that right then the only thing protecting Ian’s essence was his hand covering his lover’s head, so he wouldn't lose him in a heartbeat, really shook Mickey to his core. He’d always been in danger being a gay Milkovich in a family full of Nazis but those bullets made it clear that Terry wanted to kill Mickey and Ian, either one of them or both, and he wouldn’t stop until it happened. Something had become so real for Mickey in that moment. Sure, he’d joked around with Ian about it as they packed up their shit and quickly got out of their honeymoon suite, but he held his fear inside until later that night when Ian found him having a panic attack in their room. 

Ian had walked into the room with a joke on the tip of his tongue and a leftover slice of wedding cake in his hands for them to share and he’d been caught off guard at the sight in front of him. Mickey was sitting at the foot of their bed with tears streaming down his face. His eyes were squeezed shut as he curled in on himself and his hand was clutching at his chest as he silently cried. It was so jarring for Ian to see because he’d never seen Mickey cry like this, but he dropped the cake onto the table and immediately reached out to touch his husband. “Mickey.” He whispered in the softest voice he could manage, trying to keep himself calm in order to help his husband. He noticed Mickey didn’t flinch or react at all to his voice. It looked like he wasn’t even breathing and that scared the shit out of Ian. “Mick, breathe.” He kept his voice low and gentle as he sat on the bed next to him and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. Mickey fell into his side and finally cracked his eyes open and Ian could see Mickey’s blue irises through his tears. His mouth fell open but the only sound that came out of him was a wrecked sob from deep inside of his chest. 

“Oh, Mickey.” Ian pulled his husband onto his lap and cradled Mickey’s head against his chest, holding him close and rocking him gently. Mickey didn't fight it at all, Ian heard him gasping for air as his sobbing became uncontrollable. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, you’re okay.” He murmured in Mickey’s ear, “We’re home and we’re safe. He didn’t hurt us. He can’t hurt us.” Ian’s voice wavered a bit but he kept up his attempt to soothe Mickey. Of course he hadn’t forgotten what had occurred that morning, but he knew the shooting is what caused this. 

After a while, Mickey’s sobs became quieter and he wiped the tears and snot off of his face with his hands and Ian’s shirt. He coughed a little from the dryness of his throat before adjusting himself on Ian and curling into him wanting to block out everything else in the world except Ian and himself as his breathing went back to normal. He was still hiccuping for breath as he finally spoke. “I’m so tired, man. It’s never gonna stop. He’s…” Mickey sniffled loudly, fisting his hand in Ian’s shirt in front of his face so that he had something to focus on while he spoke. He had always been a person who would have strong feelings but refused to talk about them until it was necessary. Again, this was one of those times. As much as he’d grown up from the scared boy who had trouble admitting shit to Ian, he knew he couldn’t look at his husband while he said this or he’d picture something horrible happening to Ian and he’d start crying all over again. He could never have anything that was inherently good. Life always had another hurdle for him to jump over or get knocked down by. “You said it… There’s always going to be something… s-something trying to stop us.” He exhaled a sigh coming deep from his core before he continued. “And I’m so tired of that ‘something’ being Terry.” 

***

From that day forward, Mickey’s crippling anxiety had been pushed to the forefront of his mind. He had no idea that he was suffering from an anxiety disorder but he felt his mind and body feeling overwhelmed in a way that he’d never experienced before. He hadn’t felt this when he was living in the Milkovich house of horrors with his abusive father, feeling worried about the next crazy thing his father could do, nor did he feel this when he was completely alone and abandoned in a foreign country and he again had to figure out how to survive on his own, again. On the surface, he knew he’d been traumatized in the past and had never dealt with the repercussions of everything that Terry had put him through, and he’d definitely heard of PTSD in terms of army veterans, but not regular people. He never assumed that his old trauma could come back to haunt him or morph into whatever this was. This level of anxiety was completely new to him, and such a horrible feeling. His anxiety mounted from that day forward, until it got to the point where he couldn’t have Ian out of the house for longer than 5 minutes without worrying about him, wondering if Terry was out to get him, wondering how long Ian had to live - which was a mind boggling thought to have about your spouse in general. All of these were thoughts he would’ve laughed at himself for thinking a year ago. This was his millionth close brush with death and would’ve been just another instance he’d taken a bullet for Ian, but he couldn’t joke about it as a coping mechanism this time. He had a husband to worry about and for once he needed to worry about himself too, for Ian’s sake. 

They both knew this wasn’t healthy at all for a newly married couple that still had a lot of their own problems to work on. They’d been given a few days off of work by their new shared P.O., but they didn’t have the money to go on an actual trip so they stayed home with the promise of a proper trip in the future when they could afford it. Instead, they spent their time at the Gallagher home, mostly trying to relax and spend time together, fucking, smoking, and drinking - partying it up for a week in the Gallagher way. During the daytime, they went out on dates and visited places they hadn’t been to together in years. It felt like a trip down memory lane, hanging out aimlessly and talking for hours at the abandoned buildings and at the dugouts. But it also felt different. For the first time, they were secure in their relationship with each other, and now they were facing a common enemy as a united front, which did nothing to quell their heightened sense of imminent danger. They’d both caught each other scoping out the other side of the street or looking over their shoulder for something out of the ordinary, but they wouldn’t address it because the same thoughts were on the other’s mind. 

On the fourth day of Mickey barely separating himself from Ian’s side to go to the bathroom, Ian readdressed Mickey’s heightened anxiety. After his panic attack that first night, Mickey had played off and told Ian not to worry about it because he was just feeling a little jittery from that morning, so that’s what Ian did. Ian had given him some space to deal with it as much as he could on his own, but he could see how shaken up Mickey was. Of course, Ian felt anxious himself and he’d started looking over his shoulder more often, expecting to see the very real boogeyman in their lives but he knew he couldn’t live out every day of his life like that, and neither could Mickey. 

“Mick, we gotta talk…” Ian sighed after leading him back to their room for some semblance of privacy in this house. He knew Mickey wouldn’t want to talk about this in front of anyone else. 

Mickey couldn’t help that the hair on the back of his neck stood up, hearing Ian start a conversation like that. He crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly stood by the door, intentionally not sitting on the bed next to Ian. “About what, shithead?” He schooled his voice and was determined to keep his cool. If Ian was about to say something stupid about their relationship again…

“I know we’re both on edge because of everything that happened last week but… I think you have PTSD… from everything revolving around Terry.” Ian replied with a slight twinge of guilt on his face, realizing he shouldn’t have used those words to start the conversation. “You and I are good, I swear. I probably could’ve said that differently but, we’re good I promise.” He said, putting his hand on Mickey’s and slowly maneuvering him to sit down next to him on their bed. “I just don't like seeing you this upset and nervous. Don’t try to deny it either, you’ve started biting your nails again.” He pointedly held up Mickey’s hand. He used to do that when he felt nervous as a teenager. He took a breath and continued. “I mean, I’m not a shrink or anything but something’s really bothering you right now. Getting shot at used to be nothing for you.” He cracked a smile trying to lighten the mood as he squeezed Mickey’s hand and saw Mickey rolling his eyes at that, but there was a smile playing on his lips as well. “I know your dad is making you anxious-”

“The fuck are you talking about? No, he’s not.” Mickey took his hand out of Ian’s and brushed the back of his thumb along the bridge of his nose as he does when he starts getting riled up. “I don’t got any of that shit, okay? I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. And, Terry’s an asshole. The end.” He stood up from the bed to grab his pack of smokes. He lit one with his back towards Ian, another telltale sign to Ian that Mickey was nervous. 

“Uh huh… So, what was that the other day then? You think that’s normal?” Ian new broaching the subject was unfair but it was the only way to explain this to Mickey. Mickey was probably just as educated on bipolar depression as Ian and he knew other mental illnesses affect millions of people around the world, but he was in denial. He was the same person he’s always been, It’s just been a little rough lately. In response to Mickey’s shrug, Ian continued, “It’s not normal for you to feel like that Mick, you shouldn’t try to move past this without understanding what it is.” He took a breath as he stood and walked closer to Mickey, leaning his shoulder against the wall so he was face to face with his husband, “You have to talk about what you’ve been through, if not with me then with someone else… Not just the wedding shit either, all of it. Everything you’ve been through.” He slid his warm palm against Mickey’s hip gently, keeping him grounded there and focused on the conversation as they locked eyes. “Mick, it’s heavy shit and I don’t want to see you like this.” His big green eyes became all doey and wet as he looked at his husband. “Fuck, the shit he did to your mom, the hurt he put you through… the day he caught us, forcing you to marry Svet.” Ian could barely get the words out because he didn’t want to upset Mickey, but this list could go on and on. “And then there’s me, the shit I put you through - intentional or not - it was there.” He pulled his hand off of mickey to wipe his palm over his face and he took another deep break before continuing. “You never gave up on me. God…” Ian got choked up again. “You never gave up on me.” He offered Mickey a weak smile as a solitary tear fell. “But Mick, I fucked up. A lot. I left you and I hurt you and I did shit I will try to make up for for the rest of my life, but you… you still put me first. I’m worried about you and I love you. Just please listen to me when I say you don’t have to deal with it alone. It’s all so heavy.” He wiped his cheeks dry and waited for Mickey to say something. 

He stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray in the windowsill before bringing both of his hands up to Ian’s face and gently rubbing tears away with his thumbs. “Fine, we’ll figure something out. But, don’t ever compare your mistakes to his. You fucked up a lot, but I know why you did it. Each time hurt worse than the time before, but I get you. That’s what you don’t understand. That’s why I can forgive you and love you. And, why I know you’re never leaving me again.” He said in the softest voice as he looked up into Ian’s eyes that were filled with tears again. Mickey cleared his throat to keep his tears at bay and then brought Ian’s forehead down to touch his. “It is heavy shit man.” He relented. “Which is why I don’t talk about it.” He closed his eyes as he felt Ian’s arms wrap around him in the only comforting embrace Mickey has ever known. Ian was the only person who would’ve recognized this change in Mickey, and since he knew Mickey better than Mickey knew himself, Ian was right to address it in this way. Mickey would’ve gone about his life as much as he could just trying to manage it on his own, Ian was right. He swallowed thickly and then continued. “But, we’ll figure something out.” 

***

They didn’t have the money for Mickey to start going to therapy, so Ian knew he had to figure out some other way to help his husband. Ian saw his therapist once a month, and he could barely afford the cost of that and his medications for the month given that they weren’t earning any money as ex-cons. Taking Mickey with him to his next session, a week after their wedding was a blessing in disguise because they’d been able to talk about what they were feeling as a couple. He’d talked Mickey into going by pretending he needed Mickey’s support in dealing with his feelings about Terry but that wasn’t the case. Ian on his own, didn’t have much to say about his own feelings because he was finally happy and married to the love of his life and he was trying to be more optimistic about his life - knowing they’ll be safe as long as they’re together. Because of this, he discreetly gave his session over to Mickey because he knew they both needed to talk about how Terry was making Mickey feel. His therapist was a smart woman and saw right through Ian’s actions, but because she knew that Mickey’s anxiety was a stressor for Ian to deal with on top of his actual stress about Terry, she was willing to guide the conversation with Mickey on how to productively handle all of the fear they were both feeling. 

Ian’s therapist facilitated the conversation, making them come to their own conclusions as always, and asked Ian what he found beneficial when he felt manic and anxious. Ian replied with the first three things that came to mind: Mickey, writing, and running. Ian looked right at his husband as he said them and smiled when he saw Mickey’s reaction to being the first thing on that list. 

When Mickey was asked the same question of what he found calming, he had two answers on the tip of his tongue: Ian and drawing. He watched the therapist write something down on her notepad and tensed a little at all the scrutiny, until he felt Ian’s hand slide into his and immediately relaxed. She noticed Mickey’s body language change and definitely believed Ian was a calming beacon in Mickey’s life. After making a few more notes, she complimented both of them on their artistic abilities but then focused in on Mickey, needing a more active outlet. Struggling to come up with a sport he had any interest in, Mickey was ready to give up when Ian finally spoke up. Maybe Mickey needed to get some fresh air in his lungs and run until his thoughts quiet down, just like Ian. 

Mickey’s brows were arched so high into his hairline at that idea that Ian broke out in laughter in a way his therapist had never seen him before. But, much to Mickey’s chagrin, the shrink actually agreed with Ian. It had taken some heavy insisting on both of their parts to convince Mickey, but he’d given it a shot and liked it. 

Here he was, 8 months later, and he barely ever skipped a day. He'd figured out how to clear his mind on a jog and he found peace in it. It was a challenge, but he had learned how to pull on that peace for the rest of the day, to keep his mind at ease and keep the nagging feeling of trouble around the corner at bay. He’s got his shit together now, so things were looking up. He’s got a husband that loves him, he’s got a family, and he’s got a new hobby that makes him feel a little bit more whole.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my wonderful Andie's SAD headcanon and the subsequent spiraling session with our bff Shane. It will be a beast to tackle but I know I can do it with my girls cheering me on! Love you guys! As a special surprise, I'm posting the first chapter for ANDIE'S BIRTHDAY! I hope you like it love! <3 
> 
> Shoutout to my beautiful Jena (@gallavich_doodles on ig) for being the most amazing beta and reading this so many times! ILYSM!!! And a special shoutout to Anthony for his feedback too! Love you. Couldn't do it without you guys! 
> 
> Follow me on my socials:  
> @cam.monaghanfan (insta)  
> @cam_monaghanfan (twitter) 
> 
> If you have a theory of what's going to happen, leave it below! :)


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